


In the Details

by SolarMorrigan



Series: Solar's 007 Fest 2020 [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25554670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: Bond's housekeeper begins to notice some changes around the house
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Series: Solar's 007 Fest 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851796
Comments: 10
Kudos: 190
Collections: 007 Fest Fancreations





	In the Details

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for 007 Fest prompt classic prompt table: Bond's Housekeeper

It starts with little things, as these things often do.

It’s not that Mara is particularly interested in Mr. Bond’s personal life – not any more so than any of her other clients. It’s just that she doesn’t _have_ many clients these days, between competing with actual maid services and her advancing age. Besides that, she’s cleaned for Mr. Bond for years—had mourned to hear he’d died and had nearly smacked him over the head when he had turned up some months later asking if she still offered housekeeping services, but had otherwise been with him for a good few years uninterrupted—and really couldn’t help but notice his habits.

So she notices when there are a few extra sets of dishes in the sink—supper and breakfast—and when the bed is made the morning she comes in to clean.

Mr. Bond does not make the bed.

(Neither do his occasional nightly guests, for that matter.)

She notices a few weeks later when an extra toothbrush appears by the bathroom sink, and when there are a few pieces of clothing on the floor that are definitely not Mr. Bond’s usual colors.

Either Mr. Bond has a lady friend who gives him off-target gifts, or Mr. Bond has a gentleman friend who makes the bed but forgets to pick up his shirts.

A few weeks after that, Mr. Bond goes on one of his business trips (that Mara really thought he’d stop taking after the “death” incident, but she supposes that’s really none of her business) and things go back to normal. No extra visitors to the flat, no extra dishes, no unmade-remade bed.

Mara expects that to be the end of it; Mr. Bond has never kept the same visitor for so long, but even if they’d weather his sporadic work hours, his weeks-long disappearance now is likely to put the kibosh on this prospect.

Except when Mr. Bond comes back, so does his visitor.

His visitor adds a razor to the bathroom sink and a few small bottles of soap to the shower.

(A gentleman friend, then, Mara nods to herself.)

As months go by, more clothes appear in the bedroom (not always in the hamper, but at least not usually on the floor), a new mug appears in the kitchen (distinguished from Mr. Bond’s mugs by the Starfleet symbol emblazoned on it; at least the gentleman friend has good taste in television), and a small forest of charging cords appears on the previously unused nightstand by the bed.

The cords make it difficult to dust, and Mara sighs and demonstratively wraps them all up and puts them in the drawer. She finds them in exactly that state the next week she comes to clean, along with a short thank-you note tucked in by the tip Mr. Bond usually leaves for her.

The note is not in Mr. Bond’s handwriting.

Mara supposes this gentleman is alright.

She hasn’t seen him yet, of course, and Mr. Bond makes no mention of him when she sees him; Mara wonders if he’s even noticed his gentleman friend is slowly moving in.

Things still proceed as usual with Mr. Bond’s business trips—steady payment, empty flat, Mr. Bond usually returning home without warning and a bit worse for wear—until a few months down the line, when they suddenly don’t.

There is a man in Mr. Bond’s bed.

Mr. Bond has been gone for a few weeks now and does not appear to have returned, but there is a man in his bed – sleeping very hard by the looks of it.

Mara clears her throat.

The man stirs slightly but doesn’t wake.

Mara tries again, louder, and again after that until she’s just standing in the doorway practically shouting “AHEM.”

The man wakes with a start and a bitten-off “what” as he looks around the room and scrabbles for the glasses sitting on the nightstand.

“Oh,” he says as soon as he can see her clearly. “You’re– you must be Mrs. Blythe.”

“Suppose I must be,” Mara nods, taking the man in.

He’s younger than Mara expected, though not all _that_ young. Dark-haired and handsome enough, if a bit haggard-looking at the moment. Entirely too skinny.

“I, um,” the man stops to clear his throat, half shifting out of the bed; the pajamas he’s wearing are a hair too large and look like a set of Mr. Bond’s, “what time is it?”

“Just past 10.”

“Damn. I’d meant to be out of your way by now,” the man says sheepishly. “If you’ll just give me 10 minutes, I can–”

“I can clean around you just as well as I can clean around Mr. Bond,” Mara cuts in, taking pity; the man doesn’t really look ready to face the world just yet. “Don’t suppose he’s home yet?”

“Ah, no.” The man frowns that pensive and empty frown Mara remembers seeing on her own face any time her Henry had been deployed. “He did give me a key. And the code. I don’t normally come by when he’s away, though, I just…”

The man has extracted himself from the sheets and is now standing uncertainly by the bed. He looks young and lost and old and tired at once.

“Long night?” Mara offers.

“Long week,” the man sighs.

“Hm,” Mara hums. “Well, I’m no guard dog. If you have a key, then he wants you here, Mr.…?”

The man blinks at her. “Q,” he answers after a moment.

“Mr. Q,” Mara repeats dryly, one brow raised.

Mr. Q laughs a little. “Better make it just Q.”

“We’ll see. Now, would you mind?” Mara gestures to the bedding.

“Oh. Sorry.” Mr.-Just-Q steps away from the bed, taking the phone on the nightstand with him. “Would you, ah – like a cup of tea?”

“Wouldn’t mind one, if you’re having it,” Mara allows, and gets to work on the bed as soon as Mr. Q is out of her way.

Bit of an awkward fellow, but nice enough. Good for Mr. Bond, she thinks.

Mara, therefore, isn’t terribly surprised when Mr. Bond asks her, the next time they both happen to be in the flat at the same time, what she thinks about cats. Mr. Q seems like a cat person.

“I don’t do cat pans,” she warns him promptly.

Mr. Bond smiles. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.”

Mara hums, tucking dishes away in the cupboards. “Mr. Q come with cats, then?”

Mr. Bond snorting int his cup of coffee with surprised laughter is a new reaction; not one he’d have had just a few months ago, Mara fancies. She likes it.

Q, she thinks, will do just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on [Tumblr](https://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/622921438525046784/in-the-details-james-bond-00q-fill-for-the)


End file.
